


Right as Rain

by FluffyBeaumont



Category: Line of Duty
Genre: Bisexual Dot, Bisexual Steve, Dot's bent but he's still sexy, Drunk Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, PWP, Steve shouldn't want him but he does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyBeaumont/pseuds/FluffyBeaumont
Summary: UPDATED! Steve and Dot end up working on a case in Steve's apartment late one night. Much booze is consumed. Things happen. Dot is a really - really - good kisser.
Relationships: Steve Arnott/Matt Cottan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Right as Rain

"Nobody bloody asked you to come here." Steve glared at Dot like he hated him. It wasn't a difficult charade to enact. He did hate Dot, thought him a pretentious twat with the morals of an alley cat. He was pretty sure Dot was bent in some manner; he just couldn't prove it. He barely tolerated the DI when they were at the office. Having him here, in Steve's flat, in his personal, private space, was his worst nightmare come true. 

"Yeah, well, we've got to get this done so the sooner we get to it, the better," Dot replied. He was smiling. He actually seemed to be enjoying this, Steve thought. Like he was getting a kick out of antagonizing Steve. "Unless you've got other things you could be doing?" He smirked. Christ, Steve hated that smirk. "Shagging a witness, maybe?"

"Go fuck yourself," Steve snapped, was instantly ashamed of himself. He was better than this, rising to Cottan's bait, letting Dot get under his skin. 

"We can get to that later," Dot said. "I'm sure you'd be willing." He laughed. "Last I heard, you've got the roundest heels in AC-12." He gazed at Steve as if waiting for a response, the corners of his wide mouth turned up in his ever-present smirk. 

"Here." Steve tossed a thick file folder down onto the kitchen table. "Get your nose in that." His tone was a bit too cavalier for a senior officer. He realized this the moment it passed his lips, and could have kicked himself.

"Listen here," Dot snarled, bristling like an angry cat, "you don't give me orders. Obviously you've forgotten: I outrank you---"

"Of course." Steve bit back the harsh response he wanted to make. Dot was right. He outranked him. _Better keep a lid on it,_ he thought. _Don't let the bastard bait you. It's what he wants._ "Sorry, sir."

"That's better," Dot said comfortably. "Now then." He sat down and unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, rolling up his sleeves. His forearms were lean and muscular, dusted with blond hairs. "Let's have a look." He flipped open the folder and paged through the documents, lifting each page with his long, slim fingers and letting it drop. "You got anything here to drink?"

"Tea?" Steve asked.

Dot raised an eyebrow. "Right. Sure, DS Arnott. Put the kettle on, that's the ticket." He shook his head. "What else you got?"

"Right." _Should have thought of that myself._ "Of course, you mean...something stronger."

He went to the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of Glenfiddich and two glasses. Maybe the Scotch would provide some sort of lubricant, smooth away the rough edges between them, so they could get this done and he could get fucking Matthew Cottan out of his apartment. "Don't see why this couldn't be done at the office," he said, as he reached to decant a healthy measure of whisky into Cottan's glass. "I don't understand what the gaffer meant by---"

"He wants us to work together," Dot said pleasantly. "Get to know each other. Develop a rapport." He raised his glass to Steve, an ironic gesture, and took a sip. "Nice. Glad to see you appreciate a fine Scotch, Steve-o. I'd have figured you for more..." His wide mouth quirked up at the corners. "...plebeian tastes."

"Goes to show you don't know me at all, then, doesn't it?" Steve said, his face burning. "And don't call me Steve-o." He wondered idly why Dot's approval even mattered to him. Why should he care what the bent wanker thought of him? If the whispers around AC-12 and elsewhere had any basis in truth, Dot was on a fast track to being discredited and sent to prison for life.

"Don't I?" Dot's dark eyes bored into him, dissecting him, taking him apart bit by bit. "Maybe I'm a lot more observant than you think. I watch people, DS Arnott. I've been watching you." He waited for Steve's response, but none came. "Right," he continued, "so the CCTV picked up nothing on the night of the murder, but a witness has subsequently come forward, claiming to have seen the initial assault."

"The witness isn't credible," Steve countered. _He's been watching me?_ "He's former vice, but he was caught tampering with evidence and fucked himself over. I don't see how we can take seriously anything he says." _I don't think you can take seriously anything_ you _say._

"You ever tamper with evidence?" Dot asked, conversationally. He sipped some whisky, regarded Steve over the rim of his glass.

"What?" Steve bristled. "No! Of course not. I would never---" _You're giving him what he wants. Stop giving him what he wants._

"Calm your tits," Dot said, waving a hand at him. "Just yanking your chain. Now then. We've got solid evidence placing the suspect at--"

"Why would you even ask me that?" Steve asked. "I've never tampered with evidence. It wouldn't even occur to me. In the first place--"

"Never even been tempted?" Dot asked. He grinned, finished the rest of the whisky in his glass and reached for the bottle. "Just...oh, you know, switch a label on an evidence bag, tamper with a signature?" He reached to loosen his tie, pulling the knot down to the middle of his chest. His long fingers fiddled with his shirt buttons, undid the top two.

"What kind of a man do you think I am?" Steve asked, scandalized. "I'll have you know---"

"Ever fucked anybody you shouldn't?" Dot asked. "Never mind. Forgot who I was asking." 

"What are you implying?"

"Ever done it with a bloke?" Dot asked, idly. He was grinning. The grin was getting on Steve's nerves. He wanted to reach out and bash that smart mouth, smack the smirk off Matthew Cottan's face. The grin said Dot knew things about Steve, things that Dot couldn't possibly know, so it was all bollocks anyway. "Here," Dot said, reaching across to refill Steve's glass. "Put hair on your chest." His gaze flicked over the front of Steve's tightly-buttoned shirt. "Although I daresay that's not a problem, fine well-built lad like you."

"So," Steve continued, ignoring Dot and soldiering on, "we've got solid evidence placing the suspect---"

"Ever sucked another man's cock?" Dot asked.

"What?" _The fuck?_

"I said, have you ever---"

"No!" Steve said. "I'm...for Christ's sake, I'm straight."

"So you were saying, solid evidence places the suspect...right at the scene...?" Dot pulled a sheet of paper out of the file folder and moved it to the centre of the table. "Now, on the night in question, shots were fired--"

"Why would you even ask me that?"

"No reason." Dot made a note on the sheet of paper, a map of the area where the murder had occurred. "Just...you've got that sort of mouth, you know?" He pursed his lips. "Pretty little mouth, soft lips---"

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Steve demanded. "Or are you just taking the piss? Because if you are, I don't appreciate it. We are here to work, and I'd prefer it if--" He sputtered to a stop, hot colour flooding his cheeks. He got up, moved away from the table, and Dot's knowing smirk. The hard metal edge of his kitchen sink felt cool against his hands and he savoured it, pressing his palms into the surface. He'd stay here as long as he had to, until he felt his control returning, until--

"You all right?" Dot was standing close behind him, so close that Steve could feel the heat of the other man's body, smell Dot's aftershave. "Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm..." He turned around, eyes down, heart thumping in his chest. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Steve." Dot reached out and pressed two fingers under Steve's chin, lifting his face. "Look at me," he murmured. "Please." And, when Steve did, "I'm not your enemy."

Steve's throat closed together. It was suddenly hard to breathe. Something was drawing him towards Dot, dragging their bodies together. _I want this,_ he thought. _I've always wanted this._ He would put this - whatever this was between them - to rest, for once and for all. Dot was an arrogant bastard who'd called his bluff and by God, Steve would bounce it right back into his smirking face. He would.

He was never sure afterwards who took the first step but suddenly Dot was there, close to him, touching him, his hands on Steve's body, and their mouths crashed together and it was--

Oh _God_ , so sweet, so good, oh _Christ_ it was good. Steve gave himself up to it, groaning into Dot's - Matthew's - open mouth. They parted, only for a moment, and Dot whimpered, a ragged noise, before clasping Steve's face between his palms and kissing him, deep and hot and wet. His big, long-fingered hands left Steve's face to stroke his back, clasp his waist, before sliding down to cup his buttocks and squeeze, and Steve was suddenly, instantly hard as steel. "What do you want?" Dot asked, and it was heated, violent, and desperate. "Tell me."

"You," Steve answered. He didn't even hesitate. "In my bed."

"Are you sure?" Against all Steve's expectations, Dot actually paused, swallowed and wet his lips. "If you're not sure..." He gazed into Steve's eyes. "If you're not sure, this stops right here. I do outrank you, and---"

"I won't hold that against you," Steve murmured. "This way." He took Dot's hand and led him up the stairs to the bedroom. "I've not done this in a while," he said. He reached to unbutton Dot's shirt, pulled the loose tie over his head and tossed it onto a nearby chair. "I might need some guidance." He swayed close, flicked the tip of his tongue against first one of Dot's nipples and then the other. Dot's body jerked and he gasped, reached to hold Steve close to him. "I'll give you any guidance you need," he whispered.

"Good," Steve replied. "That's..." He trailed off as Dot's long-fingered hand delved into the waistband of his trousers, smoothing his flat belly, pressing gently but insistently. "That's good to know," he managed to say. Dot's mouth fastened onto the side of his neck, sucking; his teeth bit down hard enough to hurt, just before his warm tongue flickered briefly on the tiny wound. A hot pulse of desire throbbed low in Steve's belly and he groaned aloud. _You shouldn't be doing this,_ a small voice whispered dimly in his mind, but he ignored it. He played strictly by the rules, coloured inside the lines, always kept to the straight and narrow, never wavering. He'd learnt his lesson since his dalliance with Lesley Denton. But Dot was neither a suspect nor a witness. He was another copper, fair game.

They undressed each other hurriedly, hands fumbling with unfamiliar fastenings, buttons and zippers, belt buckles. Steve lay naked on his bed and held a hand out to Dot. "Matthew. Come here."

They fitted together like they'd been made for each other. Steve curled himself around Dot's tall, lean frame and kissed him, clinging to him, licking a hot trail from the hollow of his throat to his navel, pausing to dip the tip of his tongue into the divot above each hipbone. He lifted Dot's hard cock and licked the tip, savouring the taste of salt against his lips, before swallowing him whole. "Jesus," Dot grunted, his fingers slipping into Steve's dark hair. His hips rose off the bed, driving his cock deep into Steve's throat, making him gag. "Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry, darling, I'm sorry, I wouldn't hurt you for the world." He drew Steve up to lie against him and they kissed for a long time, Dot's tongue stroking the outline of Steve's lips, entering his mouth, tasting him. Steve clung to him as waves of pleasure rose and broke over him, his turgid cock leaking sticky fluid, his hands mapping Dot's naked body, fingers touching everywhere but lingering nowhere. "Beautiful," Dot murmured, turning Steve's face to his and kissing him. "You are so beautiful. What do you want?"

"I want," Steve said, "to make you come. Hard. Harder than you've ever come in your life. So hard you remember it for the rest of your days. I want you to come your brains out. For fuck sake, Dot - Matthew -"

Cottan rolled onto his back, pulling Steve with him, aligning their bodies so they could rub against each other, naked skin to naked skin. It took four, perhaps five passes of Steve's body against his own, and they were both coming hard, gasping, kissing and murmuring, sobbing, taking their pleasure before shuddering down to reality again. Steve came to himself, lying against Dot's naked chest, his arms around the other man's waist. 

"All right?" Dot asked. He cupped Steve's cheek and leaned down to kiss him, and his kiss was sweet, warm and comforting and wholly lovely.

"Sure this was a good idea?" Steve asked. "Not like we can undo it."

"Best idea I've had in ages," Dot said. "Why would you want to? Undo it, I mean. I think this was long overdue."

"People will talk," Steve said. "They'll say things about us."

"Would it be so bad?" Dot's smile was less self-assured than usual. "Me and you, I mean."

"It wouldn't be bad at all," Steve said. _What the hell are you doing? This is mental._ "I mean, I could..."

"No need to make any promises," Dot replied, trying to sound nonchalant and failing utterly. He pulled the covers over them both. "Look, Steve--"

"Sh." Steve kissed him. "You don't need to say anything at all," he said. He gazed at Dot. The other man looked pleasantly sated, gorgeously fucked. It was a good look for him. "Are we all right?" he asked.

"Right as rain," Dot promised. To hell with the wet spot, he thought. He was sleeping right here tonight, in Steve Arnott's room, in Steve Arnott's bed, and in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while I was drunk on Christmas Eve. Like, really really drunk. :-)


End file.
